


Remember (you are not alone)

by Sevi007



Series: The Devil's own luck [8]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Banter, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Platonic Relationships, Slice of Life that turned Introspection, Slight spoilers, no ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 10:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18313349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: (Pre-Game, Missing Scene, Interlude, ignores part of the novel)Doubts and fears are ever-present. Too many of their friends are missing. Their foe seems unstoppable, and time is running out. Somewhere in the middle of this, on their way to Red Grave City, V comes to realize he knows less than he would like, and feels more than he should.





	Remember (you are not alone)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, wow, this was... honestly just supposed to be a bit of Slice of Life, give those guys a bit of rest and some time to banter a bit more (I loved their interactions after all)but the introspection snuck in and it got almost angst-y at points. And thrice as long as planned. *sigh* Ah well. 
> 
> First time trying to write from V's POV, I haven't figured the guy out yet, but I do hope I did pay him some respect here! Mostly based on the two thoughts that  
> a) if Vergil remembers V, V remembers his time as Vergil too  
> and b) as much of a leader and collected guy V is, he was rarely ever in control of the situation in this game. Too many valuables he had not known about, too many things going wrong… and that's where the angst and introspection snuck in, I suppose. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! =D

_“The truth is… I wanted to be protected and loved. But I was alone. My only choice was to survive.”_

_“V, you gotta rest.”_

_“Nero…”_

-

**V and Nero, Mission 17**

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Dusk turned into night while they took their first, reluctant break on the way to Red Grave City, and by the time stars sprinkled the firmament, they were still waiting.

 

They had pulled the van over the side of the deserted street, parked in the field just beside it with nothing besides the starry sky above and the darkness of the night around them while they waited. Nico had declared she would take a nap while she had the chance, and done just that, falling asleep on the small couch under a thick blanket with rumbling snores and the lights in the van still on. It didn’t seem to matter to her.

Nero had been much more restless, unable to lie down and sleep, _be inactive,_ and had gone outside, first to circle the car as if to check they were well and truly alone. Then to lean next to the neon sign while he inspected his weapons for the umpteenth time. Devil Breakers safely tucked into the belt at his leg, gun cleaned and loaded. Over and over again he went over it, checking and checking again, constantly moving in some way or other with barely withheld energy. Every now and then he would glance up, scan the sky to see if Griffon was returning, only for his scowl to deepen and his hands to pick their work up again when there was no sight of their feathery scout. Constantly on the move, never staying still.

 

It would have been nerve grating, had it not lead to the young hunter being distracted enough that he did not notice he was being watched intently.

 

Sitting in the open side door of the van, one hand on his propped up cane, V used the open book on his knees as a cover. In truth, neither his gaze nor his focus had been on the familiar pages for a long time now – his mind jumping from his companions to places far away and back again, and his gaze straying every so often to Nero, watching the young man as if he could start reading him like one of his poems.

 

V wished he really had that skill, to read people like books. It would have made his situation easier, he was sure. But it eluded him, seemingly getting farther from his reach the more he wished for it – like everything did, it seemed.

His whole existence – the outcome of a horrifying measure taken by a desperate, broken man.

His body – falling a bit more apart with each step he took, each cough wracking his frame.

His first plan to right the wrong he had done – failed, all but exploded in their faces, and now Dante was gone, and Urizen seemingly stronger than ever.

All V had left now was a fool’s hope, an iron will born from having nothing to lose… and companions he couldn’t make any sense of.

 

His gaze strayed to Nero again, just in time to catch the other man lift his gun, inspect it, and slide the barrel back into place with a soft click and a decisive twist to his lips.

One companion in _particular_ that he couldn’t make sense of.

 

_Who are you?_

He wanted to ask the other, wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake an answer out of him if need be. Yet he knew very well that Nero would not be _able_ to give him an answer even if he should want to.

_Who are you?_

The boy did not seem to know either.

Nero scrambled for an answer to that question even more desperately than V did. Not sure about his place in the world, not yet, not _wholly_. Insecure enough under all his bravado that a single word from Dante could break him down easily, bring him to his knees quicker than any foe could.

_Deadweight_

That, at least, V could exclude. Nero was stronger than he should have been, if Griffon’s conclusion of the boy being little more than human was correct (“ _More than human, yeah, but there’s little demonic energy in him now, not enough that I can really catch it.”_ ) and V had to believe his familiar on that, since he couldn’t check himself. But the boy simply _could not be_ what he was so afraid of being – useless, weak, deadweight.

He couldn’t be, since Dante had apparently decided to believe in the boy.

He couldn’t be, since _V_ had to believe in the boy now.

There was no one else left to believe in, with Dante gone.

 

_“V, get Nero out of here!”_

 

 _But why_ , V pondered, gaze unseeing, neither taking in the beloved poems or the man sitting a short distance away. _Why_ had the boy been Dante’s first priority in this doomed situation – not himself, not the women he so clearly held in high regards, not even the lost fight and what would follow because of it – no, nothing of that. Dante’s first thought had been for Nero and his safety, and nothing else.  

 

 _Could it be that you saw our last hope in him?_ Fingers tapping a rhythm against the cane’s handle without much sense, V snapped his book shut, accepting that there would be no reading for him anymore when his thoughts were racing like this. _Yet you did not want to get him involved even then, adamant to do it yourself, so it seems unlikely._

_What is so important about this one, Dante?_

_Why **him?** _

_What is Nero to you?_

**_Who is he?_ **

****

And there he was again, circling round and round the same question. This would not get him anywhere.

With a quiet sigh, V started to massage the bridge of his nose between two fingers gingerly, feeling a piercing pain starting up in the same spot. _It is of no use. I can only hope…_

****

“You okay over there?”

Blinking, V resurfaced from his thoughts, the cane he had twirled between his fingers coming to a sharp stop.

Nero was watching _him_ now instead of the other way around, eyebrow raised inquiringly. “Looked a bit out of it there,” he explained once he noted how confused the other blinked at him still.

It took another too long second, but V managed to pull up a smile somehow. “I’m quite well, but thank you for asking.”

“Uh-huh…” Nero’s eyebrow raised even higher, clearly unconvinced.

 

“Aaaah, that was some good shuteye!” The exclamation in his back saved V from any further questions, and he scooted to the side as much as he could when Nico appeared behind him in the door.

Taking the opportunity to end the conversation about his well-being, V quirked a smile, reciting freely from memory, “ _Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven…”_

“You got a poem for everything, don’tcha.” The mechanic stretched with a grimace, grinning again when the crick in her back loosened somewhat, jumped past V out of the van, and dropped her hands to her hips. “Rise and shine, boys, I’m good to go again!”

Nero’s gaze strayed from V only slowly, but once he met Nico’s grin, he was scoffing at her again good-naturedly. “Rise and shine? You’re the only one who got any sleep here.”

“Explains your pissy mood,” Nico pointed out, sticking her tongue out when Nero rolled his eyes at her.

“ _Anyone_ would be in a bad mood after hearing you snore for hours-…”

“Excuse _you,_ I ain’t snoring, ever-…”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I should have _so_ recorded that…”

 

Their chatter quickly filled the once quiet night, and to his own surprise, V noted that it also put a stop to his spiraling thoughts, anchoring him in the here and now when his mind threatened to slip again. Watching the back and forth, gesticulating hands and animated expressions of his unlikely companions, made him feel calm in a way that felt utterly at odds with the sheer noise of it. He watched the entire thing unfold with an amused curl to his lips, noting idly that he had been completely forgotten by his companions.

 

Until Nero suddenly stilled, interrupting himself while he raised his left hand, head cocked to the side.

Nico feel instantly silent, eyebrows raised while she straightened. “What?”

“Something’s coming.”

Grasp around his cane tightening, V tried to sense something, _anything_ , yet his newly human senses made it near impossible, and he conceded defeat with clenched teeth, watching Nero reach for his gun instead. The other man at least seemed to have _some_ idea where they were being approached from, gaze wandering to a spot ahead and above while he waited.

 

Then there was a tickle of familiar energy at the edge of his consciousness, and V breathed out, slow and deep. “Griffon.”

Nero’s hand fell, gun vanishing back into its holster with a flick of his wrist, and he nodded silently in understanding. _Okay_.

At the same time, V lifted his left arm and braced himself for the added weight – once again glad that his familiars did not weigh much. This body of his did not allow a lot of feats asking for strength, after all.

 

The hiss of air being parted, the sound of wings fluttering, and Griffon all but dropped out of the sky above them, appearing so suddenly between them as if he had been shaped from the night sky itself. A croak, another flutter, and the demon bird landed safely on V’s upper arm, claws wrapping around the limb without scratching it.

“Phew!” The exclamation was more an explosion of breath than anything else, even the nightmare sounding a bit winded. “Finally! Alright, who missed me? You can be honest with me. I will only laugh at you for a bit.”

“That,” V started, eyes crinkling as he heard Nico snort behind him and Nero muttered something scathing under his breath, “did take you longer than expected.”

“What?!” The single word was a shout, and Griffon drew himself up to his full height, wings thrown out as he whipped around to fix his master with a glare equally parts offended and annoyed. “Alright, poetry boy, next time, _you_ do the work, and _I_ kick back with something to read.” Griffon huffed, flapping his wings as if to loosen them. “ _Longer than expected_. Do you have any fuckin’ idea how fast I flew?! I broke all records. I got wing cramps. Can you imagine? Cramps! I’m not even _supposed_ to get those!”

“Griffon,” V intoned mildly, trying very hard to bite back the smirk wanting to spread over his features.

“I mean, am I made out of fear and magic or what? Who in their right mind gives me muscles that can-…”

“Griffon. What did you _see?_ ”

“Alright, hold it, I’m getting there.”

“You mean, _before_ the sun comes up?” Nero didn’t even try to pretend he _wasn’t_ annoyed, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

That, at least, seemed to break Griffon out of his rambling, and he directed a gleaming red gaze at the young man. “Oho, it speaks. What did you do while I was working, kid – wallow in self-pity again? Yeah _, that’s_ productive.”

Something dark passed over Nero’s face, fist balling on his upper arm, and even Nico took a short step forward. V considered it time to end this conversation. “Enough of this. Griffon.”

 

“Oh, _fine_ ,” the demon bird croaked, hopping a bit closer to V’s shoulder. Maybe he, too, had realized that he might have overstepped. He was quick to keep talking. “It’s basically what we already expected. Fuckin’ tree has spread roots and vines all over the city now, it’s nearly become one with it. Those humans who didn’t make it out in time are dust and empty husks. Those human footsoldiers have set up camp around the city borders, but ain’t much they can do about it. There’s demons crawling the entire city from top to bottom, looking for the blood stored in the tree or survivors. The roots are taking those critters apart, too – perfect blood bags for good ol’ Qliphoth. Let it keep going on with this, and the damn thing actually has enough to transfer completely into this dimension.”

 

 ** _And_** _to grow the fruit. His goal all along,_ V finished where Griffon trailed off, glad that for once, his companion knew not to give too much information. The ones he had given already hung in the air between them as it were, heavy and dark. Reflected in the paleness of Nero’s face and the harsh line Nico’s lips had pressed into.

Even V, who had anticipated this already, felt sick and tired of it. He could see it in front of his eyes – the horror the Qliphoth brought, the swarms of demons following in its wake – but that was not what he was here for. Not the main source of rottenness in _that_ city.

 

Feeling the breath hitch around his next words, V began, “And what of…”

“Was Dante there?”

That was Nero, sharp and straight to the point, eyes hard as flint as her stared at Griffon as if he could draw the answer he wanted so much out of him.

This time, not even Griffon seemed to be in the mood for jokes. He lifted his wings lightly, struggling through the motion as if they weighted a ton, and sighed. “No, kid. Or at least I didn’t see him anywhere.”

 

An array of emotions flitted over Nero’s face in quick succession before the man swore, harsh and loud, turning away from them as he kicked at something, _anything_ , to let his anger out. He stayed like that, shoulders drawn up while stared into the night with a grim look, teeth grinding.

Nico lifted her hand as if to touch the tense line of Nero’s shoulder – only to drop it again, shaking her head. She shuffled around, crossing her arms over her chest, and gnawed on her bottom lip in thought.

Something about the display of helpless anger and pain tugged at V; more than the tug of his familiars leaving him to take form, and nearly similar to the pain while his body had started crumbling around his very core, too. Something quite too familiar, and better left forgotten.

 

_“Mother? Dante? Where are you?! Mother?!”_

 

Pushing the memories of a frightened, small voice away, sealing it away deep in his chest, he asked the question Nero had interrupted before, “What of Urizen?”

“Didn’t see _him_ either – and let me tell you, ain’t like I wanted to!” Feathers fluffing up, Griffon shook himself. “Scary bitch that one. _But_ judging on the sheer amount of energy around the middle of the Qliphoth, he hasn’t moved from the place we saw him last at.”

“A king resting on his cursed throne,” V mused aloud, tapping his knee slowly as he thought. “At least we do not have to wonder where to find him. It is unlikely that he will leave the heart of the Qliphoth… others will do his bidding outside of it.”

“Oh goodie. What are the chances we don’t have to visit him? At all?”

“Hardly existent, seeing as he _is_ our finish line.”

“Great, great,” Griffon all but slumped into himself on V’s shoulder, heaving a sigh. “I’m just never lucky with this kind of thing.”

“It does seem so,” V agreed with a twitch of his lips while pushing to his feet, cane and book under his arm.

 

“Well if that’s settled, does that mean we can do this now?!” Nero turned again, striding over. His fists were clenched, knuckles white and metal creaking under the force, and a muscle in his jaw was ticking.

V gracefully slipped into the van and out of the way before he could get pushed over by the other in his determined steps. “Certainly, yet…”

“Ah-ah, cool it, hothead!” Nico reached inside the van, one foot on the step to get to the right height, and whacked Nero over the head with her flat hand, earning a grunt that sounded more annoyed than pained. It did get him to stop, though. “We’re not going anywhere until I made sure we did good work on our van here. If the city is really that overrun with those crawling shitpiles of demons, then I’m better off checking if the reinforcements on the thing are gonna cut it.”

Nero let out a noise reminding of a whine, shoulders slumping. “Can’t we just…”

“Ten minutes. Fifteen. A bit more. Max.”

_“Nico…”_

“No, zip it - you want me to drive you into the middle of a demon apocalypse, you better let me make sure this baby is gonna hold up during a run-in with said demons, alright?” Nico dropped back out of the car and pointed a finger at Nero with a ferocity as if she was going to stab him with it, eyes blazing. “I work quickly, but that still needs time. Sit your ass down, or go out and take a damn walk, but _don’t whine at me.”_

“Alright, I got it,” Nero muttered, waving anymore sharp words off quickly. He made to wander deeper into the van, unhappy frown still etched into his expression, only to pause and turn, hard lines softening as he scratched his cheek sheepishly. “You, uh, gonna need some help?”

Some of the fire in Nico’s eyes cooled, and she snorted, shaking her head. “Nah, thanks, I’m good. You take a break now – I had mine already. Let me do my job.”

“Alright, _alright_ , sheesh.”

 

V watched quietly as Nico vanished from sight, the sound of the van’s hood being opened sounding a second later.

Nero lingered, clearly feeling out of place. He bounced on his feet, rolled his shoulders, gaze wandering to the open door and to the windshield and back again.

Highly amused by the show of excess energy in the young man, V settled on the couch, cane coming to rest next to him, and made himself comfortable before he asked, “May I offer you something to help with the boredom while we wait?”

“What?” Nero’s gaze snapped over to him, confusion clear. When he noticed the poem collection being tilted in his direction, Nero barked out a perplexed laugh. “No, thanks – don’t want to steal your reading material.”

“Very well then.”

More fidgeting filled the silence between them, before Nero sighed deeply, all but deflating as he came to a conclusion. “Alright, fuck it.”

He crossed the inside of the van with two long strides, apparently aiming for the makeshift kitchen in the back. “If we’re gonna be stuck here awhile, I’m gonna eat something. You hungry, V?”

“I do understand your need to fulfill this mission as quickly as possible,” V spoke in lieu of a real answer, choosing his words carefully, “Yet impatience might prove to be your downfall against the foe we are about to face.”

 

Shuffling sounded, and Nero’s head popped around the corner to the kitchen, one eyebrow lifted. “That a poem again?”

Perhaps it had been meant as an insult. Be that as it may, it still drew a chuckle from V, and he closed his book, finger between the pages to mark his place as he answered. “Call it my attempt at advice.”

“Huh. With you being so cryptic, it sure sounds like one of your poems,” Nero vanished again, and more shuffling sounded as he dug through the contents of the fridge. His words had a slight echo to them, spoken into the enclosed space as they were. “I’m not going to storm ahead blindly, don’t worry. I listened to you so far, after all. Just doesn’t sit well with me when I have to… well, you know.”

“Sitting around idly?”

“Yeah, _that_. Not my thing… aha!” The sound of triumph was followed by the click of a box being opened. “Sweet! Hey V, you want a sandwich, too?”

“I would not want to steal your food.”

“Did you just throw my own words back at-… you’re a real joker, aren’t you? No, seriously, you want one? Kyrie always makes too much food, anyway, think we would all starve without her-…”

 

Suddenly something _clicked,_ words familiar and yet new bringing something to the forefront of V’s mind, the memory echoing much too clearly and without any warning-

 

\- _pain, pain, **pain** , threatening to bring him down to his knees, but he couldn’t stop, not now, he wouldn’t get up again if he did. The lure of Yamato the only thing driving him forward, a beacon to guide his stumbling steps, leading him to the tiny garage in the middle of a once-familiar city. The voice of a young man asking, talking, prodding not unkindly, but not really heard over the pulse of **pain** and **want** that coursed through him. The last thing he heard, crystal clear before all his senses zeroed in on the weapon he needed so much, was an offer… _

_“What is it, you hungry? Well, you’re in luck pal, ‘cause food’s ready and Kyrie always makes too much.” –_

V felt the grip on his book slip, pages fluttering as it threatened to fall, before he caught himself and grabbed and snatched it up, tucking the beloved item safely into his coat again while trying to pace his racing heartbeat.

He could feel sweet bead on his forehead even though he felt cold. A sliver of annoyance flitted through his mind as he noted the light tremor to his fingers as he reached up. _I do not have time for this. This is not something I can make right again._

“…-hey, V. _Hello?_ Did you fall asleep on me?”

Shaking his head, V managed to ban the memories that were not quite his again, focusing his gaze again.

As if to mock him, his eyes fell first onto the Devil Breaker with its metallic gleam, stretched out towards him, before he managed to wrench his gaze away and up to meet Nero’s.

_Not something I can make right again…_

Nero was looking at him slightly askance. “You want it or not?”

Another quick glance down revealed that the other was offering him a sandwich, basically had it thrust into his face. The scent of bread and something spicy tickled his nose, scents once familiar and now seeming so new and exotic. V picked the treat up slowly, reluctantly, unable to really process what he was supposed to do with it. To just have it _handed_ to him. “This…”

“Cheese,” Nero informed him, striding past him to drop unceremoniously onto the floor opposite of the couch, right next to the table, his own sandwich in his hand. When V didn’t answer, he scoffed. “Didn’t get an answer from you when I asked you which one, so a cheese sandwich it is.”

“Thank you.” The words felt clumsy in his mouth, unpracticed, even though V meant them.

When had been the last time someone had just _given_ him something, for free? Nero didn’t even seem to expect something in return.

What a curious young man.

 

“You’re supposed to _eat_ it, not _stare_ at it,” Nero informed him after a beat of silence, his gaze wandering from V to his own food and back. With a shrug, he seemed to deem it useless to convince the other to eat, and instead took a bite of his own dinner, chewing with clear satisfaction. Mouth full, he added on a mumble, “If sandwich isn’t your thing, we could try roasting your bird.”

 _“What?!_ ” Griffon materialized with a burst of ink and pricking energy on V’s shoulder, almost throwing him off balance. With a hiss, the bird glowered at Nero, throwing his wings out as if ready to take flight and swoop at his opponent. “Roast _me?!_ Watch it so I don’t roast _you,_ lil’ boy!”

The threat didn’t seem to particularly impress Nero. If anything, the gleam in his eyes was more amused as he considered the demon bird. “You wouldn’t be so different from turkey, I bet. Or chicken.”

“Ohoho, _that’s it_ – let me at him, V, I’m going to fry his face!”

“Griffon…”, before V could further intervene, he felt the telltale sweep of another consciousness in his mind – _curiosity, amusement, something else_ \- then the tingle of ink moving, and while Griffon was still swearing and grumbling, Shadow rose from the seals, taking form in the middle of the van with a flex of muscles and a huff.

 

“… and now the kitty wants to play, too, ain’t that just _great.”_

If the shapeshifter took offense in Griffon’s quip, they didn’t show it, merely blinked at their master and partner before their attention swung back around to Nero, and they moved the few steps closer to the young man.

Nero didn’t as much as blink at the prospect of having a demon cat on eyelevel with him, sniffing at his ear curiously, sharp teeth right beside him. He merely chuckled and leaned out of reach of the tickling sensation. “Okay, okay, hello to you, too.”

V noted absentmindedly that there was a smirk on the other’s features despite the grumbled words.

Bereft of the opportunity to bury their snout in the man’s hair, Shadow started sniffing curiously at his hands instead, ears twitching.

“What, you hungry, too?” Nero frowned down at the cat, before looking up at V. “Yo, V, are you not feeding them? Never seen them eat, now that I think about it.”

V hummed, surprised as well as amused by the question. “They do not require food.”

“What, really? No eating at all?”

“No. They need other things, to sustain themselves. Mostly energy.”

“Huh.”

“Does not mean we don’t _enjoy_ the taste of food,” Griffon spoke up, still sounding miffed. “If it’s _good_ food, that is.”

“Heh, then I got news for you – Kyrie makes the best damn food around,” as they did so often when talking about his girlfriend, Nero’s eyes sparkled and his expression brightened. Coming to a conclusion, he ripped the untouched end of his sandwich off and offered it to Shadow, who was still sniffing it curiously. “Go ahead. Don’t bite my good hand off, though.”

 

Shadow glanced up at the young hunter, fathomless red eyes revealing nothing. Not even V was sure how exactly his familiar would react to the offer – after figuring out that they did not require food like he did, he had… frankly, he had never tried to feed them. The thought had not occurred, especially with how difficult it had been to scrape up money and food for himself after… after coming into existence like that.

 

 _How curious, that it was the_ hunter _who would think of this first._

 

Just as he wondered if Shadow even really understood the offer, the demon opened their maw wide, wider than should have been possible, and swallowed the food up with one gulp. Chewing twice before swallowing, they started purring loudly, a rumbling sound almost as loud as the van’s engine, all the while licking their lips as if to catch the last traces of the taste.

Nero’s chuckle was almost lost in the sound, grin bright in the dark of the car. “Good, yeah?”

Instead of a verbal answer, the purring increased, and Shadow stretched, claws skidding over the van’s floor, then proceeded to sprawl out next to Nero, licking their paws and mouth clean, absolutely at ease there _despite_ the young hunter with his weapons right next to them.

 

_Or maybe **because of?** _

 

The thought came out of nowhere, insistent enough that it stayed once it had appeared. Curious despite himself, V attempted to call Shadow back into their dormant state, close to him in magical ink. Not forcing them – he was too grateful for their assistance to be cruel to them, and imprisonment he had already had enough of himself – simply a small tug at their bond, a prickle of energy calling out to them to return, if they were so inclined.

Shadow stopped in their thorough cleaning, tail twitching as they looked over at V curiously, before seemingly deeming it safe to stay. They went straight back to lounging next to Nero, huffing in obvious contentment.

V blinked, surprised, gaze flickering between Shadow and Nero, who didn’t even seem to have noticed what had just taken place. Then a smirk twitched around his lips. _Curious indeed_.

 

“Soooo,” Griffon lifted off V’s shoulder, drawing the man from his musing. Flying in a tight curve, the bird managed to maneuver through the air and land on the table beside Nero without hitting any of the near walls. Head tilting curiously this way and that, he eyed the remaining food. “What does a bird got to do here to get a taste, too?”

“Oh, _now_ you want something from me?” Nero snorted, narrowing his eyes at him. “What was that about frying my face a minute ago, chicken wings?”

“What?! That was self-defense! You wanted to _cook_ me!”

“Maybe I just wanted to be _productive,_ eh?”

“Oh, _that’s_ what this is about?! You gotta be… oh, _fine_.” Feathers puffing, Griffon fluttered his wings, the picture of indignation. If he could have, he surely would have gnashed his teeth right then and there. “You’re _very_ productive. I take back when I said otherwise. Enough?!”

“Not really. But it’s enough for some food,” with a snort, Nero broke a generous bit of his sandwich off and chucked it over at Griffon. With a flutter and a croak, the demon bird hopped over to where it had landed on the table, starting to fairly dissect the food into its ingredients with claws and beak, picking at some of them and gorging others down with quick moves of his head.

“Ugh, table manners, dude.”

“Ain’t no table manners where I’m from,” Griffon threw back. His annoyance seemed to burn out as he reached a bit of ham, a delighted noise croaking in his throat. “This is some good stuff!”

“Told you. But seriously, can’t even stop talking while you’re eating?” Nero pulled a face at the bird wolfing it all down in record time. “ _Gross_. Are all your friends like that, V? Non-stop talking and rude as fuck?”

 

It took him a second to register who – _what_ – Nero meant with _friends_ , and once it did, V almost started laughing.

It wouldn’t have been a nice or happy laugh, far from it. In fact he was fairly sure it would have sounded downright _terrifying_ , because… friends? _Friends?_ Oh they were trusty and at his side like friends, that was for sure, yet they had once been his nightmares. His torture.

Now they were on his side.

They had once been his enemies, but now…

But now… to be honest, he was not sure anymore _what_ they were to him.

The knowledge of _another_ thing he was not sure about did not sit well with him, and he frowned to himself.

 

Luckily, Nero didn’t seem to have expected an answer, since he had already turned away and toward Shadow. “What about it? You a talkative one, too?”

Shadow blinked up at him slowly, yawning so widely their tongue lolled out, before lowering their head to the ground again with a silent snort, eyes closing.

“Taking that as a No,” Nero summarized, taking another bite of his sandwich. He didn’t even seem to realize that he was still absentmindedly petting the demon’s back with his free hand while he muttered around his mouthful, “Maybe for the best. Tweety over there talks enough for all of us.”

“Ain’t seen that stopping you. You _still_ ran your mouth,” Griffon snapped. Yet no threats followed while the bird picked his piece of sandwich apart, avidly searching for favorite bits.

Nero shrugged, chewing, but didn’t bother to correct him or snark back.

 

For the moment, all three seemed more focused on sleeping or eating rather than fighting over little things, and…

And they almost looked _content_ with each other, V noted with something beyond curiosity – it was close to awe and utter confusion, at this point. Two of that strange trio were not even _made_ for contempt. It defied their very reason for being. They were _nightmares given flesh._ And the third one…

 

Nero looked up and frowned at him, stopping mid-motion and only inches away from his next bite. “What?”

“Ah,” he must have been much more obvious in his observing than he had thought. “Nothing, really.”

“Uh-huh, sure. What is it? You want a different one?”

V blinked, gaze dropping back to his own food when the other gestured in that direction. He had all but forgotten about it, even if his grip around it had stayed tight, as if someone could take it away again.

Somehow, the fact that Nero actually seemed to consider getting up and giving him a different one just so his dinner would meet his taste amused him greatly, and he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “No, this is fine.”

“Right. I got something on my face then or-…?”

 

“You are quite different from what I expected.”

 

The words had slipped out much without his say-so, and for a moment, V was surprised to hear them aloud at all.

Then he instantly wished he could have taken them back. He might have just given away more of his thoughts than he had ever meant to.

 

Nero’s eyebrows had reached his hairline, clearly as surprised by the statement as V himself. One hand came up to scratch his nose, the gesture apparently unconscious. “Yeah? What _did_ you expect?”

 _Nothing,_ was V’s first thought, nothing, because this boy, this _man,_ had never been part of the plan. _Different,_ the next, since his first impression had been that the other surely must be very similar to Dante, cocky attitude and sharp wit and all, but that had also proven wrong. _Nero_ had proven it wrong, because while there were similarities, he was, ultimately, _nothing_ like Dante, and nothing like he first appeared.

Nero was proving that now, when he tried to look disinterested and amused, but his posture was guarded, as if readying for an insult, and there was genuine interest in his eyes.

 

_Who are you?_

_You don’t know either, do you?_

 

V’s gaze strayed to Griffon, who was still invested in his food, and Shadow, who seemed fully at ease sleeping with their head propped up against Nero’s knee.

“Well,” he started, setting on one easy truth rather than divulge his whole mess of a thought process with the other. “You seem to get along with demons surprisingly well for a demon hunter, for one.”

 

It was easy to tell that was in no way what Nero had expected, a surprised snort leaving the younger while he leaned back, tension seeping out of his frame. “What, you mean these guys?” One hand dropped to scratch Shadow between their ears, eliciting more rumbling purrs. “Not like they tried any funny busy yet, so I’ve no reason to shoot them.”

“Oh, I would like to see you try,” Griffon grumbled from behind him, wings fluttering.

“Still making up my mind about shootin’ _you_ , you chicken.”

“I’m shaking in my boots-… wait, I don’t have any. Hah!”

“That was a terrible line and you know it.”

“Like you got any better ones, kid!”

The banter picked up again without a second of hesitation, and V actually indulged the thought that, maybe, it would distract Nero enough to make him forget his questions.

No such luck, of course.

 

“What’s the rest?”

“Excuse me?”

Finished with his dinner, Nero licked the last few stray crumbs of his fingertips before angling a napkin from the table and wiping his hands cleans. At the same time, he nodded at V, eyebrows raised. “You said _for one_. What’s the rest that you didn’t expect about me?”

Having anticipated more questions, it was easier this time to simply shrug and smirk a little, expression giving nothing away. “This and that.”

Something flashed in Nero’s eyes, and V half expected an angry quip, but instead, the other man smirked back at him. “You’re a jackass.”

It did not sound angry, and V’s smirk only widened. “Why, I will take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, shut up and eat your sandwich already,” when V blinked, consternated, Nero groaned and let his head drop back in obvious exasperation. “Are you going to fucking tell me you forgot the food right under your nose?”

“It _was_ pushed onto me a bit surprisingly,” V ignored when Nero continued talking – it did sound a lot like Griffon’s grumbling, and he tended to ignore that, as well – and took another look at the food that had been so dropped into his lap. Shrugging, he took a bite, if only so he wouldn’t be teased about it any longer.

Only to almost choke on the first, tiny bite when flavor burst in his mouth, making him freeze. The scent had already been a revelation of sorts, but _tasting_ the cheese, spice and apparently self-made bread made him freeze, senses near overloading with the impression of the food now and memories, paled and blurred, of when he had last something similar. This was a _far_ cry from the simple food he had bought the last month, not really caring about the quality of it all, if only it would sustain him well enough.

 

A chuckle made him start breathing again, chewing quickly so he could swallow. He blurrily noticed his hands shaking.

Nero was grinning crookedly at him when V managed to look up. “Man, your _face_ right now. Never had a cheese sandwich or what?”

“I…,” V started, and trailed off, not really knowing what he had wanted to say at all.

Something about his consternation must have shown, because Nero’s grin flickered and vanished. “Hey, what? No good?”

“No. No, it’s good,” that was an understatement, but he didn’t have words to explain it fully, so V simply shook his head for emphasis, taking the next bite. And the next, before he had even swallowed the first. Each bite seemed to taste better than the one before, even though he _knew_ that was ridiculous, yet he couldn’t shake of the feel that he never had had anything that tasted quite this good. In mere minutes, he had finished of the last bit, and was almost disappointed about it. He even made sure to suck the last bit of dip from his thumb before conceding that there was nothing left.

 

He didn’t have much time to contemplate what felt like a loss before a napkin was thrown into his lap. Taking it with a grateful murmur, V started to wipe off his hands.

“You know,” Nero started, confusion and amusement clear in his voice. “could have just said that you’re _this_ hungry.”

A chuckle wrenched itself from V’s throat. “I might… have not paid too much attention to that.”

“Ye, I noticed.”

A careless gesture to where the sandwich had been just seconds before, and V sent the smirking young man a halfhearted glare.

 

“Alright, sweethearts, I’m done!”

 

With a grin on her face, Nico climbed into the van, closing the door behind her. There was a bit of grease smeared over her cheek, and a few unruly locks had escaped the headband keeping them in place, yet she was clearly pleased with the work she had just finished.

“Oh, great,” the back of Nero’s head hit the table behind him with a silent _Thunk_ as he rolled his eyes up to look at her with the most annoyed gaze he was capable of. “Can we finally _go_ now?”

“Sheesh, you really need to learn some patience… Wait.” Nico halted in her steps, sniffing the air. “Is that _bacon_ I smell here?”

“BLT sandwich. On your workbench,” Nero mumbled, gesturing vaguely in said direction. When Nico rushed off in the indicated direction, letting out something that could only be described as a shout of glee, he called after her, “Wash your hands first!”

“Oh shut up, that was _one_ time where I forgot!”

A smirk flickered over Nero’s face as the faucet sounded– only to drip right off again when Nico spoke up next “ _Extra bacon?_ Bro, if Kyrie was here right now, I would fuckin’ _propose_ to her.”

“Hey.”

“Aw, calm down, as if anyone could get between you lovebirds.”

“Who are you calling _lovebirds_ -…”

“Uh, you and your girl, disgustingly sweet all the time? Ring a bell?” Nico imitated exaggerated kisses into the air before she laughed at the face he pulled in response. “See, that’s what I gotta put up with all the time!”

“It’s not!”

“It is an’ you know it!”

There was amusement dancing in Nero’s eyes, making it clear he was not taking any of this seriously, but the two still exchanged a quick succession of grimaces and crude hand gestures as Nico walked past again, happily chewing, heading towards the driver seat. It was enough to pull a mad cackle from Griffon and an amused quirk of lips from V.

 

“So,” Nico declared once she had taken her place in the driver seat again, turned sideways and mouth full with food. “I was thinkin’, boys…”

“Oh now I’m worried.”

“… you two could get some shuteye while I keep drivin’,” without even stopping in her explanation, Nico flipped her friend off. “Should take us a few more hours before we get there, after all.”

Giving a thoughtful hum, Nero considered the option, absentmindedly patting Shadow one last time, then pushed himself to his feet, stretching. “Alright then.”

His gaze landed on V and he pointed decisively at him. “You can take the couch.”

The comment seemed so out of context, V could only stare at him. “Why would I need the couch?”

“’Cause _I_ can sleep in the passenger seat and I don’t think _you_ could do that, not with her driving style and smoking habits,” Nero jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Nico while he bent and retrieved a big blanket from beside the couch, pretending not to see her, once again, raised middle finger in his peripheral vision. “I got used to that already.”

“ _And_ you can sleep everywhere,” was quipped from the driver seat.

“That’s a _talent_ , alright.”

 

V was fairly sure he was still staring much too obviously, but he managed to get his expression under control at least, surprise settling into mild amusement, as if the suggestion alone was ridiculous. “No need. I will not sleep anyway.”

“We’re gonna be there in a few hours.”

“Which is precisely why I won’t sleep. We need to be prepared…”

“What exactly are you going to do to prepare, if not sleeping while you still can?”

V opened his mouth to give an answer… and found that he didn’t have one. There was no plan to go over, since everything they had was _stop Urizen_. All he could have done – would have done – was sit in silent contemplation, go over his memories and thoughts for the umpteenth time, and reassure himself that he was going down the right path.

 

(Memories and goals were all he had, after all. No strength left, life slipping through his fingers much too quickly… his memories were all that he could cling to, bitter as they might be. Mistakes he had made, wrongs he had done, loss he had endured – he needed to see this through, to make this right where he could. Those memories reminded him why he had to keep going.)

 

Nero seemed to consider his silence a victory, since his lips twitched up and he nodded. “Thought so.”

“Oh _shit_ , he got you,” Griffon exclaimed, sounding much too delighted over the fact that his master had gotten outwitted for the moment. V’s sharp glance over at him did not do anything to quell his obvious enjoyment. “You gonna get out of that one, Shakespeare? Any comebacks? No? Hah! Booksmart my feathery _ass._ ”

Not in the mood to deal with his familiar on top of it all, V waved his hand, _pulling._ It would never have worked if Griffon had resisted, yet either the bird was too surprised or not really minded despite his indignant squawk, since his form melted into shadow and ink. A moment later, his being had settled to black swirls on V’s skin and a nagging voice inside his mind.

_Hey! We were just getting to the fun part!_

“I am not tired.”

It sounded unconvincing even to his own ears, and V winced a little bit at it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could sense Griffon laughing at him, and wished, just for a crazy second, the bird was still corporal so he could have at least glared at him for it.

 

Nero rolled his eyes at him, and although that should have been a gesture of annoyance, there was also a smile curling around the young man’s lips, making it look almost… fond?

Before V could process that, Nero threw the blanket into his lap without warning, and laughed when V missed on the first grab and had to scramble for it.

 _Laughed_. Not the usual chuckle or short huff of amusement, but a full laugh, warm and without any mockery. It somehow made V pause, rattled him more than it should have.

 

“ _Sleep_ , V,” Nero said, still smirking in that much too understanding way, seemingly misinterpreting why the other looked so dumbfounded. “You really look like you need it.

“He’s right about that one!” Nico chimed in, turning in her seat to wave at him over the backrest. “Like, no offense, but those shadows under your eyes? _So_ clearly not eyeliner, hon.”

“What she said. We’re gonna wake you should something happen, okay? But dammit, get some shuteye, or I knock you out.”

“He’s gonna do it.”

“Damn right I’m gonna do it.”

 

“I…” V wanted to protest, he really, really meant to, but something about Nico’s bright grin, something about the fondly exasperated way Nero was still looking at him – really _looking,_ seeing his exhaustion and nervous drive to stay awake still for what it was –made it very hard to argue.

Even Shadow seemed the conversation to be over. They rose with a yawn, stretching, and in the blink of an eye, their form wavered and vanished, settling back into inky swirls on skin.

It almost tugged a sigh from V. _You, too?_

Rumbling purr echoed through his mind, and Griffon cackled even louder. Traitors, the lot of them.

Clearing his throat uneasily, V relented. He was clearly outnumbered. “Fine. But should something happen…”

“… you’re gonna know it.” How Nero managed to make an eyeroll audible was a miracle.

Nico’s grin was even easier to spot, stretching from ear to ear as she waved in Nero’s direction. “You’re gonna be wide awake once Mister Bigmouth over there starts swearing.”

“And you will have to drop me off at the city’s edge like we agreed…”

“Gonna kick you out right there.”

“Literally.”

 

There was nothing more he could argue with, and both Nero and Nico knew it. They were grinning at him, so very _triumphantly,_ as if making him take a nap was a battle to be won and be proud of…. And V couldn’t help but smile back. “Dealing with either of you is a challenge, is it not?”

“Oh, _now_ he notices that,” Nero rolled his eyes and turned to Nico, who was spluttering with laughter and exclaimed, “Duh!”

“I had my suspicions,” V sighed – perhaps a bit too dramatically. Perhaps purposely so, just because it threw the other two into another fit of laughing and eye-rolling.

 _Ah,_ he noted with only a little sense of trepidation, _I’m starting to feel too at ease with them._

_That, as well, was not supposed to happen._

He answered Nero’s wave while the other walked away with a slight nod of his own, thanked Nico automatically when she turned the lights in van off so they wouldn’t disturb his sleep. Conceding defeat, he stretched on the old couch. It was soft from long use, long enough to accommodate his lean form, and very comfortable, all things considered.

Yet he didn’t sleep immediately, even though exhaustion was pulling at his consciousness greedily, instead stared into the dark above him unseeing while his thoughts raced.

 

_What is Nero to you?_

 

If things kept going like this, V realized, if Nero kept _acting_ like this… then he would probably need to direct _that_ question no longer only at Dante, but at _himself_ , too.

And he wasn’t sure if he was going to like the answer to it.

 

 _You already **know** you don’t, _Griffon echoed in his mind, something like a laugh, something like a croak mixed into each syllable. _You have your answer, no matter how you try runnin’ from it, Shakespeare. You feel save with them. What more proof do you want?_

_Do **not** think you can torment me any longer, Griffon. Those times are long gone. _

_Me? **You** are the one who **created** me. Or a bit more poetic for you- I am but nothing than your own nightmare. You’re tormenting yourself, wise guy._

_I cannot start to care about them._ _Any of them_.

 _Perhaps,_ Griffon whispered, no malice in his voice this time, simply exhaustion. _Perhaps, you should have thought of that sooner._

V shook his head as if that could shake off the words, the thoughts, the _truth._ Resolutely, he rolled onto his side, drawing the blanket tighter around himself.

The blanket was warm and soft, smelling very, very faintly of Nico’s cigarettes and metal and, much stronger, of something flowery – soap, maybe – and it shouldn’t starting to be so _familiar_ , that strange mix. It shouldn’t have made him feel _protected_ and _safe_ , but it did.

Another tiny proof, as if to mock him, and V had to confess - he was fighting a lost battle, and the worst thing about it was that he _knew_ it.

 

From the front, Nico’s voice drifted back to him, the lilt to her words even stronger while she sang along to a song on the radio with fiery passion, yet quiet enough that it became clear she was trying to keep quiet enough as not to disturb him. Nero said something, voice light, and Nico laughed aloud before shushing herself with a hiss. A chuckle, a quiet whisper – V managed to catch his name falling when he strained a bit – before it became quieter again. Nico was still singing, voice a whisper now, while Nero was humming along.

 

Somehow, the odd little melody was soothing, and V felt some of the pressure on his chest ease, felt able to draw breath again. A bit of peace that allowed him to sort through his worries long enough to come to one final conclusion.

 

Nero was their last hope now. An unexpected hope, a number not taken into account, a joker in a game with stakes too high. But a hope nonetheless. Maybe it was a fool’s hope, yet… for the first time in a very, very long time, V dared to hope. To _believe_.

_Perhaps we can make this right._

**_We_** _._ The single word brought a hesitant smile to his face. It did not sound all that bad.

Somewhere in his mind, he thought his familiars agreed with him.

V fell asleep to the sound of a car engine and whispered words, the murmuring and purring in his mind keeping any nagging thought at bay, surrounded by warmth and familiarity.

He didn’t stay awake long enough to worry one more time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Somewhere in the middle of arguing about the choice of radio station and arguing about the possibility of Nero _ever_ singing along so they could do a duet… really, just, somewhere in the middle of _arguing_ in general did he notice that the third in their little party had been quiet for a bit too long.

 

Throwing his good arm over the backrest, Nero turned in his seat – ignoring the warning to stay seated while driving that came from his side – and glanced back towards the couch. He could barely make out V’s head, the only thing not covered by the old blanket, and the deep, calm breaths that had the other’s chest rising and falling slightly.

“He asleep?” Nico inquired, not even wondering what he was looking out for.

“Yup,” with a satisfied noise, Nero dropped back into a more comfortable position, kicking his feet up onto the console. They had both had the feeling that they would have to point out _again_ to V that he needed the rest, but apparently, they had been wrong about that.

“ _Not tired_ , he said,” Nero snorted to himself, albeit quietly. “He was out like a light.”

“Shhhhh,” Nico hit him in the shoulder without even taking her gaze off the road, earning a grunt. “Let him sleep, guy already had bags under his eyes deeper than the Grand Canyon.”

“I _am_ letting him sleep, what? I was the one who said he should sleep in the first place!”

“Uh-huh, and you did good with that, but now don’t wake him up again with your blabberin’.”

“I was _quiet_ -…!”

“Shhhh!”

“Okay, you know what?” Nero throw his hands up, ducking away from another well placed punch while he scowled at her. Not that that had ever impressed Nico, who grinned back at him unrepentantly. “I’m sleeping now. You can nag at someone else.”

“Oh _good_ , don’t gotta listen to you anymore,” Nico snickered as the scowl deepened and a rather rude gesture was sent her way. “Night, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah. Night, Nico,” Nero’s words was little more than a grumble as he reclined in his seat, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

 

Nico counted ten heartbeats before the man’s shoulders relaxed, breathing evening out. Shaking her head, she mumbled with a crooked grin, “Really can sleep anywhere, the guy.”

She had aimed for exasperated, but it came out too fond, and she knew it.

Ah, well. Nobody was awake anymore to call her out on it, she reckoned, grin softening into a honest smile as she turned the radio off and slowed the car down a bit. If they reached the city half an hour earlier or later, it wouldn’t make a difference, surely. On the other hand, this would probably be the last time those two boys that had somehow stumbled into her life and made themselves comfortable there would get some good sleep before shit went down.

 

And if she actually had to mind speed limits to assure them a good night’s sleep – well, that was a small price to pay.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes on this: 
> 
> * I decided to go with a non-binary Shadow, since, you know - shapeshifter. And we never really got a confirmation for their gender, and I figured, they can be anything, so anything they will be. 
> 
> * There are several times where Griffon talks to V despite not being "out", so I went with a sort of telepathic kind of thing here. 
> 
> * Something about Nero being the one to pester V to get rest, and to offer food to a random stranger who he KNOWS is not human just tugged at my heartstrings, and I had to work this in here. The guy is such a softie deep down, he cares so, so much. 
> 
> * Apparently the novel has it that V stays in Red Grave City - alone - during the month after Dante lost and before Nero returns to the city, because moving from one place to another would cost him energy he doesn't have. I had almost finished the fic when I heard about that, and decided to ignore that part - V went home with Nero and Nico during that time, saving strength, in my series. Because, honestly, staying in a city crawling with demons who probably attack you at every turn, alone? That sounds like it uses more energy than simply moving. 
> 
> * Realized in the middle of writing that after everything Vergil / V experienced, a simple gesture like getting tasty food for free might be something he / they haven't had in YEARS, so the sandwiches suddenly had more impact and screentime than expected. XD


End file.
